


As long as stars are above you and longer if I can

by sansaswildlinglover



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drunk Jon Snow, F/M, Love Confessions, show verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-03 01:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16316852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansaswildlinglover/pseuds/sansaswildlinglover
Summary: She opened the door, ignoring Brienne's repeated objections of "But my Lady!", but as Jon stumbled through the open door, she realized what Brienne had been trying to warn her about.Jon was naked as his nameday and apparently blissfully unaware of that fact. His eyes focused and a stupid slow grin lit up his face.





	As long as stars are above you and longer if I can

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JonSansa Week Day 6: Future
> 
> This is a little late, I was too tired to edit it when I came home last night

Sansa had just finished brushing her hair when loud angry voices started drifting through the heavy wood of her bedroom door. She tensed, turning around in her chair, cluthching her brush in her hands, knuckles turning white from her tight grip.

Brienne was outside, guarding her door, and Sansa had nothing to worry about. Her Lady Knight would sooner die than let any unwelcome visitor enter her chambers.

Yet somehow Sansa found herself on her feet, pulled closer to the door, whether by curiosity or wariness, she couldn't tell.

As she approached the source of the noises, a deep voice boomed: "Let me in, Brienne of Tarth, I need to speak to Sansa!"

Sansa pulled in a sharp breath. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. She wondered what Jon was doing outside her door this late at night.

"Lady Sansa will be asleep by now," came Brienne's answer. "Besides," she continued, a hint of discomfort in her voice, "I won't let you see her in your current  _condition,_ my lord."

"But I need to speak to her  _now_!" Jon sounded horribly irritated by Brienne's refusal, and his voice was awfully loud and demanding.

"Brienne?" she called out.

"Sansa, is that you?" Jon asked, sounding delightfully surprised. "Are you in there, Sansa?"

She swallowed a chuckle. "It's all right, Brienne," she told her sworn sword. You can let him in."

"But my lady, he's..."

"In his cups? I gathered as much, Brienne. He won't hurt me. Let him in."

She opened the door, ignoring Brienne's repeated objections of "But my Lady!", but as Jon stumbled through the open door, she realized what Brienne had been trying to warn her about. 

Jon was naked as his nameday and apparently blissfully unaware of that fact. His eyes focused and a stupid slow grin lit up his face.

Embarassment and amusement warred inside Sansa's mind, complicated by the warmth pooling in her chest at the sight of that look on his face.

"Sansa," he slurred, his grin growing wider, his gaze melting.

She tore her eyes away from his face, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, but that was a mistake. She couldn't stop her eyes from roaming over his body.

He was slender, but he was hard muscle all over. His shoulders and chest almost appeared golden in the glow of the fire. The lines of his stomach invited her to run her hands over them.

His scars were the horrible evidence of the vile betrayal he'd suffered, but they didn't mar his beauty. She wanted to feel those strong arms wrapped around her and find out what those muscles felt like under her fingertips.

 _Seven hells,_ she thought,  _he was still your brother just days ago._ But perhaps she had never truly seen him as such. 

She tried to tear her eyes away from him, but they'd found the v-shaped lines leading to his crotch, and she couldn't stop looking at his manhood which hung thick, tan and heavy amidst a patch of coarse black curls.

Heat flushed her face and she averted her eyes, but they were drawn to his face again. She must have imagined the smug hint she thought she'd spotted in his smile. 

"Sansa," he repeated.

"Jon," she acknowledged him, and his smile grew wider, before it faded. 

"I'm so sorry, Sansa," he sighed. "About everything."

"What's done is done," she told him. "And you couldn't have known..."

"I wish Robb were here," he confessed. "He wouldn't have messed things up."

 _But he did,_ she thought, but she kept that to herself. "Robb is gone. It's just you and me now."

"You and me," he repeated, and a hint of his earlier grin reappeared.

"And we have Arya and Bran to take care of."

"Aye." He nodded solemnly. "I want to take care of you, too."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "We've discussed this before, Jon." 

He closed the distance between them, surprising her by framing her face in his hands. "You don't understand," he whispered loudly, as only children and drunk people could.

She scrunched her nose up as the smell of ale on his breath hit her face. He stumbled a bit as he tried to step even closer and she held her hands out to steady him. The skin over his ribs was warm and smooth, and he shivered under her touch.

"I'm sorry," she said. "My hands are cold."

"No," he objected. "They're perfect."

Quickly she pulled her hands away, but Jon wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. Even with his nakedness making it awkward, she felt warm and safe in his embrace.

He inhaled deeply and sighed: "Sansa."

She tried to recall how many times he'd said her name in such a short amount of time.

"When I come back," he said, taking a deep breath. "When I come back I'll marry you in the Godswood."

She sucked in a sharp breath. If this was a jape, it was a cruel one.

"I'll feast you in the great hall," he continued, pulling back to look at her. "You'll have a fine new dress and as many lemon cakes as you can eat."

He released her, his eyes dark and his cheeks a deep red. "And if you'll have me, I'll truly make you my wife inside these chambers. But only when you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready?" she blurted out without thinking.

"I wouldn't mind, I just want to spend my days with you." He offered her that stupid smile again. "But I'd like to make love to you in the hot springs and make your toes curl. You deserve it."

His voice had grown low and hoarse, and it made her stomach flutter. He took her hand. "And I want to give you a dozen babes. 

She blinked and licked her lips, unable to respond to anything he was saying. All she could do was stare at him.

"I always thought I'd go off to fight and die again to save all of you, especially you. And Arya, and Bran," he confessed, and the sadness of it tugged at her heart.

"No," she whispered. "Come back to me."

"Aye," he said, twining their fingers together. "I'll come back to you. I'll come back to be with you, if you'll have me." He offered her a sad smile, and suddenly he looked very small, his eyelids drooping.

She wanted to tell him yes, but not like this. She wanted him to sober up first, confirm those words when he wasn't in his cups and then she'd beg him again to come back to her, to come back and be hers.

Somehow she managed to get him into the bed and soon he was snoring loudly. She stepped out for a bit to inform Brienne that Jon had fallen asleep and that she'd send him back to his chambers in the morning.

She hoped her sworn sword didn't spot the blush on her cheeks when she told her. It was entirely improper to have a naked man sleeping in her room the entire night. 

Eventually she grew tired as well, and decided the bed was big enough for the both of them.

***

Jon woke up slowly, head pounding and mouth parched, but apart from that, he was delightfully comfortable. He pulled the soft, warm body in his arms closer to his chest and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent of lemon and lavender.

He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut so he'd fall back asleep, but vague and confusing impressions from the previous day started trickling into his mind.

When he opened his eyes, they met dark red hair and confusion hit him. _What in Seven hells happened?_

He had no desire to let her go, but he knew he'd need to do so before she wakes up. He shifted his hips away from hers, but she snuggled her upper body closer, pressing her back flush to his chest.

He wished this moment could last forever,  but he'd also like to know how the fuck he ended up in Sansa's bed. He could tell it was hers. It was warmer and softer than his and was permeated by her scent.

Suddenly her breathing changed and she started turning around in his arms until she was facing him. Her hair was a mess, her eyes barely open and her face soft and rosy with sleep. Her attempt at a smile morphed into a wide yawn, which she tried to hide behind a hand. She had never looked lovelier.

She reached out to brush a curl from his face and his breath hitched. "How's your head?" she asked, voice thick and coming out through her nose.

"Horrible," he answered, his own voice rough.

"Serves you right!" she told him, but she was still smiling and her hand travelled down his neck to his shoulder and chest.

He closed his eyes as she traced the scar over his heart, shivering under her touch. He realized he wasn't wearing any clothes. 

"Sansa? What?" he tried. "How... Did we...?"

She blinked, a crease appearing between her eyebrows, but then her cheeks flushed a deep red. She averted her eyes and pulled her hand to her chest, balled into a fist. 

"I hope you'd remember if we had," she whispered, her voice so low he almost missed her words.

"Me too," he chuckled and sharper memories from the night before began flooding him. 

"Do you remember everything you said?" she asked, shyly trying to catch his gaze again.

"I do," he confessed, before his voice could catch in his throat.

"Did you mean it? All of it?" Her voice sounded so small, and she couldn't meet his eyes.

 _Don't be a coward now, Snow._ He lifted her chin with two fingers, making sure she'd look at him. "Aye," he said, forcing himself to hold her gaze. "All of it."

"Come back to me, come back to be with me. I want you to," she said, her voice firmer now.

"I will," he promised.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to post a fic for every day of Jonsa Week next week.
> 
> Tomorrow's story will be Jon x Satin x Alayne!


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